“Boys are more physical, I guess.”
“Eddie says the same thing.” After a moment’s pause, she nonchalantly said, “So, what did you do?”
Her tone seemed a little too nonchalant. A weird sense of foreboding hit him hard in the solar plexus. “I went sailing.”
“Ah. I thought it looked like you had some color on your cheeks.” Stirring her coffee, she smiled. “Have a good time?”
“I did.”
“I don’t know if you heard…but Ramona went sailing, too.”
“Ms. Greer did? Hmm.” Tyler reached for his sandwich, then realized he’d finished it during the last uncomfortable conversation. “I hope she had a good time.”
Shawn narrowed her eyes. “Did the two of you go together?”
Since he was the one who’d promised to keep their date private, he volleyed back a question. “Why would you ask that?”
“No reason. But…did you?”
Ten years of selling software had made him a pro at evading direct questions. “I’m sorry, but page twenty-seven of the handbook suggests I refrain from gossiping.”
“Tyler, I think it’s time you were honest with me. Is there something going on with you and Ramona?”
Every single bit of manly pride wanted to look her right back in the eye and say yes. It wasn’t in his makeup to sneak around and pretend to be something he wasn’t. Though, to his dismay, he seemed to be doing a pretty good job of that lately.
Since Shawn was still waiting for a reply and he was tired of being fed questions, he went on the offensive. “Forgive me if I’m mistaken, but none of this seems work related. Or does answering your questions about my personal life fall into my job description? I’d hate to feel that I was being judged for that.”
She blinked, obviously ill at ease. “No…I was just curious.”
He almost smiled. There. Now she knew how it felt to be in the hot seat. Standing up, he pointed to the clock. “I really don’t have anything to say about her. And, you know, I better get going. Don’t want to be late. Around here, the clock is always ticking.”
“Hold on.” Lowering her voice, she said softly, “Tyler, I don’t know if you know this, but Remy…Ramona’s a good friend of mine.”
“I’m glad.”
“I’d hate to see her get hurt by someone just out for a good time.”
Like Shawn, he wasn’t born yesterday, either. “Duly noted. And just so you know, I don’t discuss the women I date. Certainly not at work. Ever.”
“That’s good to know,” she said slowly.
He opened the door just as the damn clock chimed. Not two minutes after he put on his headset, his phone lit up. “Thank you for calling Carnegie Airlines,” he said as brightly as his sense of pride would allow.
“Sir, I wonder if you could help me. I’m trying to get to Miami….”
As Tyler wrote down the woman’s requests and listened to her chat about her father, her four-year-old and the high price of cereal at her local grocery store, he gritted his teeth with impatience. He really hated this job.
Never again would he hang up on a telemarketer. Living on the phone all day sucked. It really did.
Chapter Ten
At ten to seven two days later, just minutes before the end of his shift, Tyler had the misfortune to answer a call from one of the most difficult men he’d talked to in his extremely short career at Carnegie.
After listening to a two-minute tirade about the guy’s grievances, Tyler decided to calmly interrupt. Honestly, the guy needed a shrink, he was so delusional. “Sir, I’m not sure how Carnegie Airlines can help find your bags at the Orlando airport. That really sounds like a problem for the baggage handlers there.”
“Well, no one here wants to get me my bag, so you better figure out how you can help,” the caller—Mr. Ken Snyder—snapped. “Everyone in that cramped, dirty baggage claim office just keeps milling around, asking me to fill out a stinking form. I don’t want to fill out a form. I want my suitcase.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m unable to help you there.”
“I don’t want to hear that, you idiot. Tell me what you can do.”
“Hold on, now. There’s no need to call me names.”
“There’s every need. You should be offering me some kind of compensation,” the caller shouted in Tyler’s ear. “After all, it’s your fault the bags are lost.”
Tyler was getting pretty damn tired of being insulted by strangers over the phone. Furthermore, he was getting pretty tired of dealing with nincompoops who constantly blamed him for things that weren’t his fault.
Like this baggage mishap.
Who knew what might have happened to the guy’s bags? Maybe the baggage handlers had stuck the bags on the wrong carousel. Maybe the suitcases had completely missed a connection. Shoot, maybe someone was having a coffee break instead of searching for luggage.
But it was not Tyler Mann’s fault. He was just the poor schlep sitting in a confined space in Destin, Florida, for eight hours a day. All in the futile effort of getting a date.
He took a deep breath. Recalling Kaitlyn’s warning to be nice and Shawn’s warning about trying a little harder, Tyler asked, “Mr. Snyder, one more time, what did they say at the baggage office?”
“They seem to think it’s not their fault that I missed my flight and decided to take a different connection.” Mr. Snyder settled down a bit now, and his fury cooled to a whine. “Now we’re sitting here in Orlando with nothing to wear. I need clothes, pronto. My kids are screaming. They want to see Mickey right now.”
“I see.”
“There was a blizzard in Buffalo, did you know that? The traffic was terrible. I couldn’t help missing my scheduled flight.”
“No, I, um, hadn’t heard about the snowstorm.” Tugging down his cuff, he saw that his shift was over. All he had to do was get the guy off the phone, and then he could be free.
“Why not? Don’t you work for the airline?”
“I do. But I sit in an eight-by-eight cubicle all day. Plus I’m in Destin,” he said nastily. “The weather’s always great here. Now, as for your bags, I bet they’ll show up within twenty-four hours.”
“That’s not good enough. Who do I talk with to get a check? We need to go shopping for clothes. ASAP.”
Little irritated him more than people who threw around acronyms. “No one. It’s not going to happen.”
“Listen, you sack of—”
He’d had enough. “No, you listen. There’s nothing I can do. Why don’t you go relax or something? Go to Disney World. Your bags will get there as soon as they can.”
“I. Want. The. Manager.”
No way was he going to subject Shawn to this guy. Turning his voice sickeningly sweet, he replied, “I’m so sorry, but there’s no manager around. I’m your only hope.” Tyler couldn’t help but grin. There. That ought to show the guy how to settle down.
“Actually, there’s a manager right here,” Remy Greer said just above his left shoulder. “And this manager would love to have the phone. Now.”
Craning his neck to the side, Tyler turned her way…and then looked up. Up to the neat-as-a-pin navy suit. Up to the demure hint of cleavage under a yellow silk camisole. Up to her hair, pinned fussily on top of her head. Up to her lethal glare. “Crap.”
“What?” screamed Mr. Snyder. “Are you swearing at me now?”
“Oh, settle down. Believe me, if I was swearing at you, you’d—”
Remy’s eyes turned fiery. “Hand me the phone. Now.”
Without a word, Tyler unsnapped the headset and slapped it into her hands. Remy expertly slipped it on over her ear, adjusted the microphone, then introduced herself to the jerk on the line. “This is Ramona Greer, the manager of this call center. I’m so sorry for any inconvenience you may have had.” Glaring Tyler’s way, she added, “The person you were speaking with is new.”
When she motioned for him to give up his chair, Tyler readily complied. During the next few minutes
he reluctantly stood in awe as she talked calmly and sweetly listened to the diatribe.
“Yes, sir. I’m sure it’s been a very trying experience.”
Tyler wanted to gag.
Narrowing her eyes, she said, “Yes, good help is hard to find. Now, how can I make things easier?”
Tyler figured what the guy really needed was a swift kick in the rear.
He couldn’t believe what Ken Snyder got instead.
Five minutes later she was promising money would be wired to the hotel, his bags located as soon as humanly possible and then rushed to his hotel. Even if it meant someone was going to have to drive the bags to Orlando from Tampa. Amazing.
When she hung up, he clapped, somewhat sarcastically. “That was impressive. I didn’t know we could promise so much so quickly.” He was joking, of course. There was no way anyone who worked for Carnegie was going to get paid to track down one rude little guy’s bag.
“Actually, Tyler, I think you did. The correct procedures are listed very clearly in the handbook. And I believe Shawn spoke to you, as well.”
“I can’t believe you’re getting so riled up.”
“It’s my job to help customers. To listen to their needs.” Narrowing her eyes, she added, “It’s also yours.”
“All right. Well, next time I’ll try to be more patient.”
“I’m sorry, but there won’t be a next time.”
“What?”
All of a sudden he was aware of most everyone in the vicinity listening in. Kaitlyn had even pushed her rolling chair out so she could watch him.
“You’ve left me no choice. Today’s call now makes two irate customers you couldn’t handle. And those are just the ones we know about. You are fired.”
“What?” For a moment, she’d sounded as if she’d just come off Donald Trump’s show.
“I’m sure you heard me.”
“Oh, I heard you, all right, but I don’t understand.”
With a huff, she unhooked his phone, slipped off his headset, then stood up next to him, glaring at him with enough frost that ice would probably start forming any moment. “Come. With. Me.”
Next door, two call representatives moaned.
Tyler rolled his eyes Kaitlyn’s way, then grabbed his cell phone and lunch sack and quickly followed Remy out of the maze of cubicles.
She didn’t say a word as she strode down the aisles. He traded embarrassed glances with a few people who looked up in alarm.
Up the stairs they went. Tyler couldn’t help but notice how pretty she looked in navy patent leather heels.
Past Shawn’s desk they strode. Into Remy’s office. As soon as he stepped in, Remy shut the door behind her with a decisive click.
Then she breathed deeply, obviously striving for control.
God, she looked hot.
He tried to joke. “I really am sorry about that guy. But nothing he was saying made sense, Remy. You’ve got to know that. He was an SOB.”
Shaking her head weakly, she murmured, “Tyler, this was a mistake.”
She’d lost him. “What was?”
She waved a hand around the room. “Everything. For ever thinking you would like working here.” Picking up a bottle of Perrier, she continued, “This was a mistake, too.”
He wasn’t following her. “The water?”
“No. I mean you. I mean you were the mistake.” Her eyes narrowed. “You really were.”
“Don’t you think you’re getting a little carried away?”
“Not at all.”
Now he was getting irritated. “I must have taken thirty calls today. You had the misfortune of hearing the bad one. I did fine with everyone else.”
“That’s the problem. That’s what you’re not understanding. See, there can’t be any bad calls. We can’t only try to please some people some of the time. When people call here, we need to try for a hundred percent customer satisfaction.”
“But not everyone can be satisfied.”
“But we have to try.” Shaking her head, she stared at the green glass bottle in her hand. “Tyler, the fact is, I shouldn’t have hired you. I’m sorry I ever did.”
He stood closer, tried to reach for her hand. She pulled it away as if his touch burned. “Stop.”
“Stop what? I may be your employee, but I’m still the same person I was last weekend. I’m the guy you went sailing with, remember? You had no problem holding my hand then.”
“That was a mistake. I shouldn’t have gone. I shouldn’t have dated an employee.”
Why was she making everything so hard? Why was she overanalyzing everything between them? The solution to their problems was staring her in the face. “Remy, don’t you see? Everything is all good now. Since you’re firing me, I won’t be working for you anymore. Now we have no problem.”
Remy closed her eyes and looked as if she was trying hard to count to ten. She must have failed, because seconds later she was glowering. “Yes, we do. And if you can’t see that, then I’m afraid we’re done.”
“So you’re firing me and dumping me over one idiot from Buffalo?”
“If that’s how you see it…yes.”
“I don’t. But it’s a shame that’s how you do.”
“Please collect your things and leave.”
Lifting his cell, he almost smiled. “This is the only thing I need to collect, Remy. I think I’ll just take my sorry self out of here right now. I’m sure you have my paperwork on file. My address is there, too. You can just mail me anything you need me to sign.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “You know this isn’t my fault.”
“Oh, yes it is, Remy. So far you haven’t listened to a thing I’ve said. Not about the idiot. Not about our date. Not about us. And worse, you haven’t been listening to the things you’ve said to me, either.” He turned to her before throwing open her office door. “You should have listened, Remy. You should have believed in me. In us. Because, see…I was so worth your time.”
“Goodbye, Tyler.”
“Bye.” Without looking back, he strode out. Passed Shawn and strode down the stairs. Passed a few people standing outside the break room, obviously hoping to catch a little bit of fresh office gossip.
He couldn’t get out of the building fast enough.
Remy had been right about one thing. Working at Carnegie call center had been a mistake. Phenomenal.
So had basing a relationship on a well-written magazine article and a pair of sad gray eyes.
So had imagining that a few kisses and meaningful looks meant anything more than what they were. It had all been a mistake. A big one. And now he was paying the price.
Chapter Eleven
“You don’t look so good, Señora Greer,” Carmen said when Remy walked in the back door that evening. “Bad day at work?”
“It was one of the worst. One of the top ten worst ever.”
Carmen shook her head. “Those customers should remember that you cannot be more than you are. You cannot help it if the rain and snow cancel flights.” Folding her arms across her chest, she added, “Or if flight attendants are rude.”
Looking at her housekeeper with real fondness, Remy said, “You’re better than a therapist, Carmen. You always tell me exactly what I need to hear.”
“Did it help?”
“Not today, I’m afraid. Unfortunately, today’s problems were all my fault. I had to fire someone this afternoon. It was the guy I went out with last weekend. The guy who took me sailing.”
Carmen’s eyes brightened with speculation as she sat down at the kitchen table. “Señora Greer, I sure can’t be thinking about dusting the living room now. You’ll have to tell me everything. This news you have is too bad.” It was too bad. At the moment her whole life felt that way. Slowly, without elaborating too much, she told Carmen all about their sailing trip, and the phone call she witnessed.
“He’s just not cut out for the job. People think it’s easy, but it’s not. It can be really challenging. Heck, I k
now some of the people who call in are difficult.”
“That’s putting it nicely, yes?” Pulling over the fruit bowl, Carmen picked up an orange, rolled it between her palms, then started peeling it.
“Well, yes. But the things we deal with aren’t a surprise, either. Everyone who’s hired knows what he or she is getting into.”
“Ah, yes. You’ve talked about that before.” Smiling slightly, Carmen carefully placed another chunk of peel in the neat pile in front of her. “Everything about Carnegie is all in your handbook.”
Was Carmen being sarcastic?
“That’s right,” Remy answered, deciding after a moment not to read anything into Carmen’s words. “He should have read the handbook more carefully. And listened to Shawn’s advice, too.”
“But he didn’t.”
“Nope. Tyler’s too opinionated, too strong to be yelled at about unreasonable requests. I knew that when I hired him.” Remy slumped against the back of her chair, kicking off her heels in the process. “I knew it as soon as he introduced himself.”
When Carmen glanced her way, Remy added, “But, oh, he had the best handshake.”
“Humph. And he was handsome, no?”
“He was. I mean he is. He’s so handsome. He’s so everything.” Closing her eyes for a moment, Remy muttered, “He always smells good, too.”
“And now he’s gone.”
It sounded so final. “Yep, Carmen. Tyler’s so gone from my life. He’s so gone, and I’m the one who pushed him out of it, too.”
Carmen pulled off a succulent slice of orange and popped it into her mouth. “Oh, Señora Greer, don’t worry so. Something will happen. Maybe.”
“Maybe. Maybe doubtfully.” Though she’d known she had no choice but to fire him—there was no way she could have saved face with everyone if she’d let him get away with that attitude—she still knew come Monday, she was really going to miss him.
Second Chance Hero Page 7
